C is for Cherrio to Your Comfort Zone by Bob Jones

 

                        Photo by Curtis Thornton on Unsplash

  

“A ship in a harbor is safe, but that’s not what a ship is built for.” John Augustus Shedd

“It’s when you begin to think about going to your dream that your dream is always outside of your comfort zone. It’s always beyond what you’ve ever done.” Bruce Wilkinson

 

The second chair was comfortable for me. That’s not a comment on the literal comfort of cloth, cushions, or capacity. I filled the second chair as an assistant pastor in three different churches. The role suited me well. The “buck” didn’t stop with me. That was a comfortable context.

The context lasted fourteen years. Then I felt the “tap.”

Have you felt a tap on the shoulder or a nudge to move out of your comfort zone? The move may only lead you down the hall, or to a new set of responsibilities or a change of location but the feelings from being outside your zone are enormous. It’s stimulating, stretching, scary, strange, and anything but stale.

Are you being nudged to change your style? Maybe it’s to up your game from articles to a book. Or move from novels to non-fiction? Or to change your career or finally follow your dream.

 

STEPPING OUT

Stepping out of your comfort zone is scary but it doesn’t take courage. Do it scared. Courage is what you find after you step out. What it takes, especially for those who trust that God can order your steps, is a calling. A calling is what gets you through the inevitable setbacks, difficulties, and challenges that await just outside your comfort zone.

 

A comfort zone is a beautiful place – but nothing ever grows there. The move you’re scared to take is the move you need to make.

In 1994 everything changed when our senior pastor went on permanent disability. Months earlier he cut back to part-time hours because of health reasons. Now, he wasn’t just stepping back he was stepping out. The Board of our church asked if I would step up. Yes, was a response to God’s calling. I felt the tap to leave my comfort zone.

The next twenty-five years were anything but comfortable and everything extraordinary.

EXTRAORDINARY

Extraordinary is what you get when you leave your comfort zone and follow your calling. You may muse, “But who am I to be extraordinary?”

Marianne Williamson answers,

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be?"

 

Are you ready for God to bring opportunities your way? Doing so requires you to leave what is comfortable. The journey may be scary, you'll feel out of control, and you will be required to get going without knowing exactly where you're headed. This is how you achieve kingdom purposes.

You'll get to try new things and meet wonderful people, like Spider Mabel. She was 8 years old when she came to a book signing. If you receive nothing else from this post, watch Spider Mabel's video trailer to see a girl who stepped out of her comfort zone and saved a city.

 

Saying “Cherrio” to your comfort zone is the first step to getting comfortable with who you are meant to be.

What happened when you stepped out of your comfort zone? 

Bob Jones writes to grow hope, inspire people to be real, forge an authentic faith in Jesus, and discover their life purpose. You can follow his writing at REVwords.com

A little salt goes a long way by Pamela Mytroen

I don’t see God’s supernatural hand when I’m in the midst of a storm; I see it after the calm. After that wounded day of 9/11 in September of 2001, I had responded by writing an article, which I had taken to our local newspaper. It was rejected. However, I was offered a job as a correspondent, which softened the “blow”. I began writing feature pieces for the paper but I was restless. I desired to share Christ with my community, to point the way to Truth.   

The world’s thinking had shifted as the smoke from 9/11 dissipated into the clouds. Christ was embraced at first as people grieved, but the thunder of suspicion and skepticism towards Christianity began to rock our world. I felt that if I didn’t quickly share truth with people, that our chances might crumble like the twin towers. The editor had assigned me to write human interest pieces and I was not allowed to venture out of that role. How could I write for Jesus in our paper now? 

Previously, the Pastors of our community had written a weekly column in the paper, but over time, as the Pastors moved on and a new editor was hired, that column disappeared. I longed to see God’s Word in print, taking on advertisements and news. I began to pray about it and God began to nudge me to take action.  

God whispers, seldom shouts, but it’s a whisper made of fire that burns deeply. I don’t like to be the one to give feet and action to my dreams, but God believes in us; isn’t that amazing? So He wouldn’t let go. I was and still am fearful about leading. A storm of doubt always rages inside me when I need to talk to people and make something happen, but God’s whisper had shot through me and I needed to obey.  

I could send an email to the newspaper office with my desire to see this column start up again. No, too impersonal. Or I could call. Again, too easy for the editor to say, “no.” I knew I had to go in person, which unsettled my stomach. I approached one pastor and shared my idea. He liked the idea of writing for the paper, but said he was too busy to help me. So I approached another pastor, who was very young, and new in his position. “Yes, of course, I’d be happy to come with you.” I suspected that our inexperience and youth wouldn’t stand a chance against this seasoned, curmudgeonly editor. I’d been told that the new editor was very secular and wanted nothing to do with Christianity in her paper. “She will run you out of her office,” one said. Another said, “She won’t publish anything Christian. I’ve been trying for 3 years.” I really hoped the editor wouldn't be there when we went to see her or that the office would burn down before we arrived. Anything to avoid being chased from her presence. Just before we went to the Times, this young pastor and I bowed our heads and prayed that God would open the hard heart of this editor. 

We were ushered into The Editor's office. She jabbed at her keyboard as we stood before her. She asked what we wanted while she scrolled through her screen, harrumphing and sighing. We sat down. She looked at us over her glasses and I shared how I would like to see this type of column start up again. The young pastor enthusiastically talked about his ideas of writing for the Times. 

I will always remember what happened next. The editor crossed her arms over her chest and stared at us. She said nothing. The silence condemned me – why did I think this had been a good idea? Then, she leaned back in her chair. It was one of those reclining office chairs. She kept her arms folded and continued to stare at me. My perspiring hands slipped on the plastic arms of the chair. Not only would she reject this crazy idea, but she would probably not trust me to write any more feature pieces. Her chair creaked as she leaned forward, preparing to announce her judgment. I uncrossed my legs, and planted my feet, ready to flee from her presence. 

The words she said burned their way into my imagination and seared my doubts to a crisp. “Yes,” she said, picking up her pen. “That is exactly what our paper has been missing.” 

The young pastor, who had believed all along, chatted with her and they began to put plans in place. It would be called, “Pass the Salt” The word count would be 300 and pastors from a variety of denominations in town would take their turn writing every week. About that time I began to breathe again and we left the office together. That was almost 20 years ago.

The salt is still being "passed" every single week. Storms continue to happen since 9/11, but during every one that our nation, province, or community endures, the Word of God is shared by our pastors. Like a rainbow, it arches over the fear and devastation and gives hope and light to our community. 

As I look back I see that although God’s whisper is so gentle, and can be snuffed out, that is how He guides me. He is so wise. He fought the battle in the heart of an editor. He paved the way to transform lives, and all He asked of me was that I take His hand, go along with Him that day, and watch Him do something amazing. We serve an extraordinary God who whispers calm into a storm. 

Leaving The Second Chair Behind by Bob Jones

The second chair was a comfortable one for me. 

I’m not referring to the comfort of upholstery or cushions or size.  My role as an "assistant to the senior pastor" - 2nd chair - of two different churches suited me very well.

My experience taught me that the second chair doesn’t have to be second class or place. It can be a significant place for a season or a lifetime.

Delegated responsibilities and the accompanying authority allowed me a fair bit of freedom to serve autonomously under a safe covering. My scope of ministry included leading overseas missions trips, a choir tour through the Eastern United States, a call-in radio program on Saturday afternoons out of Champlain, NY, hosting city-wide concerts as well as a youth ministry, Sunday School, young adults and preaching once a month.

Not having “the buck” stop with me was comfortably acceptable.

My second chair roles lasted fourteen years. Then I felt "the nudge.” 

It came only hours after our senior pastor and friend informed me that he would need to go on permanent disability. Months earlier he had cut back to part-time hours because of health reasons. He entrusted me with the role of associate pastor at the time.

Now, he was not just stepping back he was stepping out. And I was stepping into the role of interim pastor. That’s when I felt the nudge. “Would you be the next senior pastor of this church?” The Lord’s query was very clear. I don’t often profess to hear God “speak” but this time the message was very clear. Very. Clear.

The Board of the church initiated a search for a full-time senior pastor. They drafted a list of candidates. My name was not on the list. They knew this role was out of my “comfort zone.” Months passed. Thirty-two leaders were approached. Each declined the opportunity. During the process the remaining members of the pastoral staff resigned and left for other callings.  I was the “last man” standing.

Then the Board asked me if I would consider becoming the senior pastor. “Yes.” The rapidity of the response was quite astounding. I’m inclined to pray, consult, discuss and mull over significant decisions. But I had felt “the nudge.” Yes came clearly. Time to sit up and step away from the comfort zone of the second chair.

Our church is congregationally governed – they “elect” their senior pastors. On Sunday May 14, 1994 the vote was held. I was elected as their 21^st senior pastor.  

The past twenty-three years have been anything but comfortable and everything that is extraordinary.   

We’ve been through an intense relocation process, building a new $18 million facility, our church family has increased six fold and become a multi-cultural, come-as-you-are, risk-taking, compassionate community with a vision to see a personal relationship with Jesus grow in everyone, everyday. Recently we began construction on a new addition featuring increased classroom spaces and a 500-seat multi-purpose venue that will allow for a second onsite congregation.

I'm thankful I got nudged out of my comfort zone - or comfortable chair - and into my destiny.

Robert (Bob) W. Jones is a recovering perfectionist, who collects Coca-Cola memorabilia and drinks Iced Tea. His office walls are adorned with his sons’ framed football jerseys, and his library shelves, with soul food. He writes to inspire people to be real, grow an authentic faith in Jesus, enjoy healthy relationships and discover their life purpose.